Stargate Atlantis: Season's Greetings
by the morrighan
Summary: A short Christmas story centering on John Sheppard...and a lead-in for a new series to begin in the new year.  Happy Holidays!
1. Chapter 1

Stargate Atlantis: Season's Greetings

_Ghost of Christmas Past_

"Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" John Sheppard's voice was high, filled with excitement and wonder as he all but tripped down the stairs. His feet slid, trapped in his footed pajamas but he retained his balance and clambered along the hardwood steps, clutching the banister for balance. His older brother snorted behind him, following and mocking the younger sibling's clumsiness but John ignored him. "Mommy!" he called again, at last reaching the level floor. He sped round the corner and paused abruptly.

"Watch it, Johnny!" David Sheppard shouted, almost colliding with his little brother.

A woman turned towards them with a warm smile. She was lovely, a vision in a white fluffy robe, her brown hair spilling out in every direction. She held a spatula and the delicious scents of waffles infiltrated the air. "Morning, Johnny, David. Whatever is the matter?" Emily Sheppard asked. She set down the spatula she had been holding.

The boys hesitated. It was an unusual sight to see their mother cooking. Normally one of the staff would handle those duties, especially since mommy hadn't been very well recently. But here she was, cooking them breakfast as if it was just another ordinary morning.

Except it wasn't just another ordinary morning.

It was Christmas morning!

The boys grinned, exchanged a glance and hastened to her. "Mommy! Mommy, it's Christmas!" David announced with surety. He glanced round but his father was nowhere to be seen.

"Mommy, mommy, Santy Claus came! Come see, come see!" John insisted, reaching up to take her free hand and tugging.

Emily smiled at her sons. Both had earnest expressions. David appeared concerned, however, as he eyed her. Johnny was all excitement, his dark hair sticking out in every direction no matter how she tried to tame it. "Did he now? Are you sure?"

"Yes, mommy! There are pwesents and lights and pwesents under the tree! Come see! Come see!" John tugged and Emily let him lead her out of the spacious kitchen.

"Mommy, where's daddy?" David asked. Always the cautious one he followed, frowning. The house was very quiet and he wondered if the entire staff had been given the day off for the holiday.

"Daddy had some business this morning in his study so we must be very quiet and wait for him," Emily answered. The family crossed the elegant foyer, their footsteps muted on the shiny hardwood floor. They passed into the family room. A large wreath hung above a spacious fireplace. A giant red bow caught the sunlight streaming in through the paned windows and the material seemed to bleed among the pine needles.

"Look, mommy! Look!" John stopped near the tall evergreen tree, pointing dramatically. The tree was a marvel, full of white lights that were blinking and colored glass ornaments shimmering in the sunlight. Silver tinsel glinted seductively, winking as if in on the conspiracy, and the silver garland hugged the tree limbs with graceful ease.

Beneath the tree were scattered several presents. All shapes and sizes wrapped in colored foil paper spangled with ribbons and bows. Spread under the tree and across the velvet tree skirt as if haphazardly dropped there. And they hadn't been there last night!

"And see? See?" John turned, pointing at the stockings hung over the fireplace. Each red stocking bore a name in elegant glitter writing: Emily. David. John. Patrick. And each stocking had candy canes peeking out of their bulging material. "Santy Clause came!" John announced triumphantly, a big smile on his face, revealing a gap where he had lost a baby tooth and was waiting for its replacement.

"Don't be stupid, Johnny! There is no Santa Claus!" David remarked, shaking his head with the authority of an older sibling. He moved towards the tree, stopped seeing a large shape in the shadows. "Is that for me? Is that a bike?"

"There is too!" Johnny retorted, still keeping hold of his mother's hand in his. "Look at all of this! It wasn't here yesterday or last night and I looked!" He freed his mother's hand and moved to a glass table in front of the settee. "And look! The cookies are gone!" He pointed at the empty porcelain plate where only a few crumbs remained of the cookies left for Santa.

David snorted, shaking his head. "That's because daddy ate them!"

"No he didn't! Santy Claus did!" John argued, frowning at his brother. He folded his arms across his chest, immovable. Never mind that he was adorable in his red pajamas, the ones with the planes all over them, he was serious and would prove his point no matter what.

David snorted again. "There is no Santa Claus, stupid!"

"David! Do not call your brother stupid! And don't tell him there is no Santa Claus," Emily intervened, looking from one to the other.

"But it's true, mommy! There is no Santy Claus!"

"There is!" John argued back, just as vehemently. "If there wasn't then who brought the pwesents and the twee and ate the cookies then huh huh?"

"Daddy did, dummy! Daddy did all of this, well, daddy and the workers did," David ameliorated, glancing round the exquisitely decorated room. "Don't be a baby, John."

"I am not a baby! Santy Claus did all of this and I proved it!"

"You did not!"

"Did!"

"Did not!"

"Boys, enough, please! I don't like it when you yell and argue!" Emily had moved to her knees and was hugging herself, seemingly drawing in on herself. Voices were starting to whisper in her head and she tried to ignore them.

The boys exchanged a glance and a guilt they knew all too well. They moved to her and touched her arms. "Sorry, mommy!" they chorused, looking fearfully around lest their father overhear the commotion.

"Stop it! Stop the yelling! I cannot abide the yelling! You know what will happen if you keep yelling and we don't want that we don't want…" Emily took a breath, trying to calm herself and her shattered nerves and the voices clamoring in her head. She stood shakily, eyed each boy and smiled. She kissed each one. "Now, boys, let me finish cooking breakfast and then we can open our presents, all right?" She headed out of the room, appearing in control once more. Her voice was slightly different too. As if someone else had taken momentary control.

The boys exchanged a glance, both relieved and worried. "You shouldn't have done that."

"I didn't do anything!" John argued. "You started it!"

"You did with all of your stupid talk about Santa! There is no Santa, Johnny! Grow up, would ya? Daddy did all of this like he does every year!"

"No! Santy Claus brought the pwesents and ate the cookies and did the tree so there!"

"Santa doesn't exist!"

"He does!"

"He doesn't!"

"He does!"

"He doesn't!"

"Boys!"

The stern word made both boys freeze. They visibly gulped and slowly turned to see a towering figure in the doorway. They glanced at each other, turned to face their father and eyed the floor.

"Sir?" they said together quietly.

Patrick Sheppard neared. His footsteps were loud on the floor. He was dressed in a suit and tie, as if he was going out to work. He eyed each boy. "I expect better behavior on Christmas morning, gentlemen. Your mother was trying to cook breakfast but you upset her so much she has had to lie down for a little while. I've warned you about upsetting her, haven't I?

"Yes, sir," the little boys agreed.

"You know your mother is delicate and has to be treated with kindness, especially during her bad spells. What were you arguing about this time? David?"

"Santa Claus, sir. Johnny still believes in him," David replied, glancing up at his father. His features reflected more of his father, while John took after their mother more.

"I see. John?"

John swallowed, but met his father's gaze boldly, even as David returned his gaze to the floor. "Yes, sir. I pwoved that Santy, er, Santa Claus came here because of the pwesents and the tree and he even ate the cookies that mommy and I left him to eat." He smiled, seeing no fault with either his logic or his evidence. "He came and did all this, just like mommy said he would."

Patrick eyed his younger son. His expression softening for a moment, but he hardened recalling how the argument had upset his wife and had almost sent her spiraling into yet another bout of depression. "I see. Well, your brother is right, John. There is no Santa Claus. You may as well learn this now. You're old enough to stop believing in fairy tales or silly stories."

David smiled briefly, but his smile fled as he glanced at his little brother and saw his crestfallen expression.

"There's no…no Santy Claus?" John asked slowly, stunned. He stared round the room. All the wonder and magic seemed to evaporate before his eyes. He glanced at his brother, then to his father.

Patrick nodded. "Yes, son. Santa Claus doesn't exist. It's just a story told to little children. Now come along and let's have breakfast. Then we can see how mommy is and if she is feeling up to it we can open our presents. Let's go, boys." Patrick turned and headed out of the room.

David glanced at his little brother, shrugged. "Told ya," he sniped, but regret whispered in his voice. He followed after his father, unconsciously imitating the older man's upright stride .

John stared after them. He bit his lower lip a moment, forcing himself not to cry. He looked at the wreath. He looked at the stockings. He looked at the magnificent tree. He looked at the several presents gathered around it and under it.

Nothing had changed, really. There were still presents to open. There were still decorations. There was still a Christmas tree and a wreath and stockings and lights and ornaments and candy canes and bows and ribbons and gifts oh yes plenty of gifts.

But something was gone. It was something that had been there only a few moments ago. It was something as warm as the touch of his mother's hand in his, as comforting as her smile, as wonderful as her lucid, calm mood. Something had been taken away and would never return. The lights shone just a little less brightly. The tree was a little less magical. The presents glimmered with less promise. The empty cookie dish held no more proof.

It was still Christmas morning.

But there was no Santa Claus.

And if there was no Santa Claus what else wasn't real? Was else was just a story? Would mommy ever get better like the doctors and daddy kept saying, or was that just a story too? Was that just another pretend story like Santa Claus and his elves and his reindeer and all the rest?

John Sheppard stared hard at the tree and the presents.

Resolutely he turned and walked out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Stargate Atlantis: Season's Greetings2

_Ghost of Christmas Present_

"John! John! John!"

John Sheppard scowled at the voice calling, demanding him. He knew the increasingly irascible voice all too well and he strode towards it. His boots were loud, clomping on the floor to convey his annoyance and anger as he strode through the cafeteria. Men and women parted for him, seeing the foul mood of the military commander of Atlantis. "What? What?" he snapped finally, pausing near a scene of holiday chaos.

A huge tree was being erected in the center of the room. It was a large evergreen, culled from another planet and brought through the Stargate. Marines were arguing, gesturing, swearing as they tried to turn the tree this way and that, balancing it as scientists were busily positioning it into a tree holder and turning the screws to keep it upright and possibly straight.

"No no no no no to the right, the right! No, my right, not yours!" Rodney McKay stood like a general marshaling his troops, gesturing wildly and shaking his head. Boxes and boxes of ornaments and garland and lights were gathered around him, just waiting to be put upon the tree. People waited too, eager to decorate and celebrate the Christmas holidays although far, far from home. Teyla Emmagan was holding her baby Torren, a look of amusement and curiosity on her face, mirroring the Athosians near her. Ronon Dex appeared utterly baffled.

"McKay! What the hell is this?" John snapped.

Rodney met his gaze. "What's it look like, Sheppard? A Christmas tree! We could have used your help, you know! I need you to direct these marines of yours! Apparently they don't know left from right!"

"Would that be your left or your right?" Evan Lorne quipped as he appeared suddenly from around the tree. Pine needles were stuck in his hair. "Sir?"

"As you were, major." John clasped his hands behind his back, shaking his head. "Seems you have things in hand, Rodney."

"No no no no no your other right! There! There, hold her steady! Zelenka, get it tight all the way round!" Rodney ordered.

"I know how to put up a Christmas tree!" the Czech scientist muttered, on his hands and knees beneath the boughs as he tightened the screws. He began to mutter in Czech.

"Ah, John, here!" Carson Beckett, or rather his clone shoved a cup of eggnog towards John, forcing him to grab it before it spilled along his black uniform. "Happy holidays, colonel! We are going to decorate the mess hall and the infirmary! I wish we could put a tree in the 'Gate room!" he enthused, his Scottish accent rising above the music blaring from the speakers.

"I told you how dangerous that is! The event horizon would swallow it whole!" Rodney argued. "And we already tried that," he admitted with a shrug. "No, a little to the right, there! The left, then! Banks, come on!"

Amelia Banks scowled but winked at Ronon who smiled. "Sorry, Rodney. How's that?" She had a firm grasp of the tree and shifted her position.

"Ignore him, Amelia! He's just a grouch because someone ate all the popcorn!" Jennifer Keller jested, smiling at him as she began to dig through a box of garlands.

"How was I to know that was for decorating?" Rodney argued, but he smiled at the blond doctor before resuming his direction of the tree. "There! Nobody move, except for Radek! John, if you would lend a hand—"

"Hell no. I think Radek's got it under control," John said. He set the cup of eggnog aside with distaste. He looked round. Everyone was joking, jesting. Even the arguments were good-natured.

"Come on, colonel. You will enjoy this," Alison Porter said with a smile. The lovely doctor moved to Carson, touched his arm in passing. Carson smiled at her.

"Where the hell did all of this stuff come from?" John asked.

"Me." Richard Woolsey popped up from behind a tower of boxes. He was holding a Santa Claus hat. "I think we need to celebrate a proper Christmas for once, now that we are back in the Pegasus galaxy. Come on, John, help us decorate the tree!"

"Yes, John, come help us! I'm sure you'd be a whiz at untangling the lights," Carson said.

"Don't mind him! He's being a real Grinch about this," Rodney grumbled.

"Me? Who is the Scrooge that ate all the popcorn?" John retorted.

"I told you that was an accident! We can get more, can't we? Come on, John, join us!" Rodney urged, taking his friend's arm but a sudden snap made him whirl. The tree was tilting wildly to one side. "Damn it! What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything! The screw broke!" Radek called from under the tree.

"Hang on! I can fix this! Same thing happened to me when I was a kid!" Evan scrambled under the tree. "Hold her steady!"

"We are! Ronon, help us!" Amelia called, body swaying with the massive tree.

Ronon smirked and joined her, grabbing hold of the tree and keeping it upright. "I still don't understand this odd custom of yours," he grumbled, but he smiled at her.

"You'll understand the mistletoe soon enough," Ann Teldy jested, and everyone laughed. The blond major paused, eyes on the handsome colonel standing aloof until he met her gaze and she turned back to the tree.

John watched them. He was glad they were happy, enjoying themselves. His friends were with their friends and their lovers and just relaxing into a celebration after so much peril and loss and tragedy. Now that they were back in the Pegasus galaxy things could get back to normal, at least by Atlantis standards. Still he felt he couldn't take part. It was unpleasant. It was grating. It was annoying.

Grabbing a beer from the back he left the room, preferring to be alone.

The soft strains of music drew him. He traversed the lower levels, following the inexplicable sound of Christmas music. A faint blinking glow led him to the doorway of a lab. He entered, paused. The room was mostly dark. Consoles were softly beeping, a strange accompaniment to the holiday music whispering from the speakers. A small tree was perched on a computer. Tiny lights blinked in a merry greeting of red and green and blue and gold.

There was a woman seated at a console, typing and pausing, typing and pausing. John neared, curious. The blinking lights fell upon her white lab coat, upon her brown hair loosely tied back in a ponytail. Muted lights blinked upon her plain face that was drawn in serious concentration as she typed, paused. Typed, paused.

John took a sip of his beer. He cleared his throat. Took another sip and licked his lips as she turned, startled. "Doctor O'Meara," he identified.

Moira O'Meara nearly jumped at the raspy, male voice. She stared at the handsome man looming over her. He was clad in black from head to toe. The colored lights danced faintly upon the long, lean lines of his body, along his handsome, stubbly face, along the perfect curve of his lips as he licked them again before taking another drink from the bottle he held. She found her voice. "Colonel Sheppard."

He stepped closer, glancing past her to the computer and seeing a jumble of words and formulas. He met her gaze, leaning on the console's table. "Why aren't you with the rest upstairs, decorating?"

"I was working," she explained, her gaze falling along his body again before she met his gaze. She stared into his green eyes a moment before adding, "Why aren't you?"

He smiled a moment. He shrugged. "Not really in the mood."

"Oh." She turned back to her work, then back to him.

John found himself uncomfortable as her brown eyes assessed him. "What work? On those aliens?" He glanced again at the computer monitor, back to her. He took another sip of beer.

"Yes." Moira found herself strangely fascinated by the way he sipped the beer. The way his perfect lips encircled the bottle and his long fingers lifted it. The way he swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing as he titled back his head. The way he licked his lips to savor every last drop of the beverage before he lowered it again. The way one finger tapped idly on the label, as if he couldn't quite keep still.

"And?"

"Nothing yet. What I really need…what I really need is a live specimen…or, or tissue." She frowned, hearing the slight stammer in her voice. She looked away, biting her lower lip a moment.

John watched her, seeing her shyness, her uncertainty, but her determination as well. She made a soft, soft sound in her throat as she freed her lip and John shifted a little, responding to it. He studied her as she eyed the monitor. He touched her shoulder briefly. "Wanna sip?"

She turned to him, startled by his touch, by the offer as he held the bottle towards her. She smiled. "No thank you, colonel."

"Ah." He shrugged, drank some more. He looked round the lab, seemingly content to remain.

Moira watched him, imagining tasting it from his lips instead of the bottle. She let the fantasy play in her mind, almost moving to her feet to enact it, to realize it but she inwardly laughed at herself and instead asked, "Did you need something, colonel?"

"Me? No. And call me John," he invited with a smile. "Moira, right?"

"Yes. You, you remembered," she commented, surprised.

"Yeah. Of course." He was oddly serious.

Moira found herself captivated. She suddenly moved to her feet, to stand and John straightened, turning to her as he set the beer bottle onto the console. A thousand words came and went but none made it past her tongue until she finally decided and was about to speak.

"John! Here you are!" Rodney entered, smiled. He glanced round the lab, at the pair. "We need you in the control room! We've got an incoming wormhole. Reynolds and his team. Oh! We've got the tree up and we are decorating it! It looks spectacular too! I think we should have Ronon put the star on top! You know, like the Abominable Snowman! Come on!"

"Okay, Rudolph." John smiled, shrugged and turned to leave. He took a few steps away from her as Rodney disappeared down the hallway.

Moira watched him go, conflicting emotions a whirlwind inside of her. She glanced at the beer bottle he had left, then back to him.

John paused and turned back. He stepped to her and touched her arm. "I'll see you later, right?"

Moira's breath caught in her throat, but she managed to reply, "Yes, of course. Of course, John." She smiled.

He smiled, nodded. He strode out of the room after his friend.


	3. Chapter 3

Stargate Atlantis: Season's Greetings3

_Ghost of Christmas Future_

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"

The continual repetition normally would have irritated the hell out of John Sheppard, but since it was his little daughter who was calling him with such insistence and excitement he didn't mind. A smile spread across his handsome face even as an annoyed one displayed itself across Rodney McKay's and both men turned from the console they had been studying.

A little girl was half running, half toddling towards them, a wobbly burst of energy in pink and lilac. Her dark curls bounced around her rosy face and the wide-eyed expression on it. She careened to a stop, nearly falling and giggled as her father knelt and caught her. "DADDY!" she shrieked in triumph.

John laughed, planted a kiss on her forehead to make her giggle again. "PRINCESS!" he echoed her jubilant noise, making Rodney snort. "What is it, Ems? Has Santa Claus arrived yet?"

"No, daddy! Santy Claus don't get here 'til two days!" Emily Sheppard held up two fingers for emphasis, little face screwed in a serious expression very reminiscent of her father.

"Oh. That's right," John said, glancing at Rodney. The physicist glared a warning, but he smiled as the little girl glanced at him.

"Hi Unca Rod!"

"Hi girly!" he responded. "Can we get back to work now, John? We have to initialize all of these systems before we can begin a citywide—"

"In a minute, Rodney." John turned his attention back to his daughter. "Now, Ems, what is it? Weren't you with mommy?"

"Yes, daddy, I with mommy but mommy busy so she send me to Maggie and I want my daddy so I see daddy now can we play dolly and have tea now daddy like the Engwish do?"

Rodney was smirking, trying not to laugh as John's glare hit him even before he spoke. "By all means, John, go play dolly and have tea with your daughter and let the scientists work."

"Ha ha." John stood, sweeping the little girl up his in arms. "I see. Well, Ems, daddy is busy too, trying to explain all this city stuff to Uncle Rodney."

"That's rich, coming from you," Rodney joked.

"Daddy," she pouted, lower lip stuck out endearingly, "I wanna play dolly and have tea. Can we? Pwease. Pwease, pwease!"

"Later, honey. Here." He set down the little girl. "Go play dolly with Maggie, all right? Tell her it's a direct order. Then we can have tea. Go on, now."

"Okay, daddy! TEA TEA TEA!" She clambered away from him, breaking into a run. "MAGGIE!" she shrieked, catching sight of the older woman who always helped with the children.

"Looks like you dodged a bullet there, Sheppard, but I bet you play one mean game of dolly and then you ow!" Rodney recoiled from the smack to the back of his head.

"Ha ha. Let's finish this, shall we? As you have heard I have a tea date later today."

Rodney shook his head and returned his attention to the console. "At least with Seamus and Johnny you don't have to have tea."

"No, we go on beer runs when Moira isn't looking," John jested. He looked at the console, but found himself thinking about his wife. He touched a panel, closed his eyes and felt the soft hum of the city responding to his touch, to his thoughts. With his advanced abilities powerful ATA gene he easily located her in one of the newer bio labs that had been recently discovered in the northern quadrant of Atlantis.

"John? Are you going to help me do this or take a nap?"

John opened his eyes. "Yeah, let's do this. Then I want to see what Moira is up to."

"Working like we should be. You know, I think it is absolutely hilarious that Emily would rather play dolly with you than with her. And as for having tea, well…"

"Yes, it's freaking hilarious," John snapped, but he smiled, shaking his head. "It's because you scientists are no fun."

"Nonsense! Science is fun!"

"Yeah, tons of fun. Let's do this, Scrooge," John sulked, causing Rodney to smile.

xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx

Moira Sheppard was deep in concentration. She was perched on a stool, leaning towards a microscope and a data pad. She was frowning, eyes darting from one instrument to the other. She shook her head and bit her lower lip as she inputted more information. She peered into the lens to see minute cells dancing on a slide, viscous globs of red and amber that collided and merged, collided and fought. She sighed, eyed the scrolling data on the screen. Lines of code and letters and numbers in long chains that blurred to her staring gaze until she blinked. Something brushed her cheek and she vacantly swiped at the air, more intent on the screen. Another brush and she swatted, suspecting an insect or a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail. Another slither of softness tickling and she waved her hand in the air, irritated now.

She whirled on the stool. "What the fuck was…oh."

John smiled at her ire and indignation, trying not to laugh at her reaction. He stood, holding a sprig of mistletoe above her head. The spray of greenery was dotted with white and a red ribbon. "Language, doctor! 'Tis the season, you know."

Moira smiled at her husband, but scowled. "The season for what? For you to irritate me, sweetie? "

"Hilarious, Moira. Well? Mistletoe." He glanced up at the plant, back to her. His green eyes sparkling with merriment and a darker, more sensuous interest as his gaze perused her white lab coat that covered her curves.

Moira smirked, but grew serious, deciding to tease him despite how deliciously unkempt he looked. Stubble shadowed his handsome face and his long-sleeved black shirt had a zipper that was just begging to be pulled down to reveal more than the teasing glimpse of chest hair it so far was offering. Black pants drew the eyes down his long legs to the double holster around his thigh, then to his black boots. "You know, colonel, that mistletoe is actually a parasitic plant that feeds off its host tree and certain species are known to be poisonous and the berries are—"

"Enough, doctor! Damn you scientists take the fun out of everything!" he snapped, annoyed. "Just once can you forget all that scientific claptrap and just enjoy the—" The rest was lost as Moira sprang from her seat and engulfed him in a hug as her lips caught his.

Effectively silenced John enjoyed the kiss as their mouths entwined and their tongues danced, teased and twirled. He dropped the mistletoe to grab her and pull her against his body, pressing her along his as his cock happily jerked in his pants. John's hands slid down to firmly grab her rear under the lab coat and to squeeze and squeeze until she yelped in protest and broke the kiss.

"John!" she scolded, squirming but his hold was quite firm, gentling but keeping her pressed to him. She splayed her hands on his chest, pushing but he was immovable.

John smiled. "That's better, baby. You know how sexy you are in that lab coat so you better give it up and give it up now for your military commander."

"Is that so, sweetie? Is that a direct order, colonel?"

"Yes." He kissed her, but looked past her at the data pad. "What are you working on down here and why aren't you upstairs decorating our rooms?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question, sweetie, although it is very obvious what you are doing down there. Naughty colonel."

He chuckled, meeting her gaze. "Yeah, very naughty, baby. Well?"

"I've been studying the data we have on those aliens and I just want to make sure of my findings because they are quite…astonishing."

"Yeah, don't remind me. And?"

"And I've been comparing what little we have to Wraith DNA and so far they are not even closely related…except possibly in.."

"In?" he prompted. "Well, baby, make it quick because we don't have much time. In about..." he glanced at his watch, "an hour I have a very important tea date."

"Emily," Moira said, smiled. "I wouldn't want to intrude upon that, colonel."

"You are about to be intruded on so finish your sentence so we can have sex already," he grumbled, shifting along her.

She smiled at his ire. "Fuck you are hot when you are pissed, John. I mean…damn!"

"In?"

"Yes, as soon as you drop your pants."

He laughed. "No! Your sentence!"

"My…oh!" She thought a moment, squirming along him to feel his erection pressing, pressing. She kissed him, playfully tugging at the zipper on his shirt. "In the human DNA. It's not human but close…I can't be sure because I only have limited data and no samples but it does look interesting."

"So those things aren't human…or are they?"

"I don't know. I said I don't have enough data yet but I can postulate that they are—"

"Mommy! Mommy!" Two little boys ran into the room. The older stopped, staring at the towering man standing in front of his mother, but the younger continued, undeterred. "Daddy! Daddy, daddy, whatcha doin;?"

John smiled, knelt to meet his son's gaze. "Hey, sport. Whatcha doin'?" he drawled in the game of words between them. He gestured and the older boy neared quickly, smiling.

Seamus Sheppard laughed. "Nuttin' daddy. I was helping Johnny dec'rate tree!"

"I bet you were, sport. I am going to help mommy do some decorating too."

"And yourself," Moira quipped. She stepped round and knelt to her sons. "What is it, Seamus? Did Uncle Carson send you?"

"Yes, mommy. He got the data you sent and he gave me a candy cane!" Seamus held up the half-eaten remains of the peppermint cane.

"He did, did he? Hmm…I was planning to do some sucking of my own…or your mother was."

"John!" Moira elbowed him as he grinned at her.

"I got one too but I ate it!" Johnny Sheppard announced.

"Daddy, daddy…is, is Uncle Cars Santy Claus?" the little boy asked in complete seriousness.

John considered, tilting his head. "Hmm…he could be, come to think of it, buddy. He's quite jolly and likes to give you presents, doesn't he? Ah. He doesn't wear red or have a beard though. And he's not as round as Santa, not like Uncle Rodney is."

"John!" Moira elbowed him again. "No, honey. Uncle Carson is not Santa. Your father here, though, was once an elf." She playfully tugged his ear.

"Moira!" He scolded, glaring at her as mother and sons laughed. "You are so getting a spanking on that pert little ass!"

"Daddy, daddy, where Santy Claus?"

John stood as did Moira. "Well, sport, Santa Claus is on his way, never fear. We can track him on the city scanners in two days. Gee, I hope he doesn't get lost or anything."

"Santy get lost? Daddy?" Seamus asked, staring up at his father as he tugged his leg.

"John, stop teasing him. No, honey, Santa won't get lost. Rudolph will lead the way, like in the story, remember?"

"Oh. Yes, mommy! Red nose!"

"Daddy, daddy, I heard there is no Santa Claus," Johnny said in all seriousness, little brows furrowed.

"What?" Seamus asked in shock.

"Of course there's a Santa Claus, darling," Moira assured, glancing at John.

"Mommy, I heard adults talking and they say there's no such thing as Santa Claus!" Johnny repeated, as if considering the notion. He eyed his father. "Daddy, is that true?"

"Daddy?" Seamus echoed, tears forming as he was about to cry.

John was silent. He looked at Moira who was watching him, love in her gaze, letting him make the decision. He looked at his sons. They were both staring at him, miniature versions of himself waiting with both suspicion and trepidation. Finally John smiled at them.

"Of course there's a Santa Claus," he assured in a firm voice, causing the little boys to relax and to smile. "How could there not be? Who else is going to deliver all those presents to good little boys, if there are any here?"

"Daddy!" the boys chorused, giggling.

"Who else is going to eat those cookies you boys leave out on Christmas Eve…except for Uncle Rodney, of course." The boys laughed. John stood, ruffled their hair. "Now run along and don't you listen to any of that nonsense! Santa Claus does exist, and he will be here in two days to prove it, all right?"

"Okay, daddy!" The boys laughed, hugged him, hugged their mother and ran from the room, talking excitedly.

Moira smiled, kissed her husband. "I'm glad you gave them that, John. At least for a few more years."

"Yeah…so am I. Let's go." His arm encircled her and he led her to join the festivities.


End file.
